Doctors and Clowns
by Nagaku Tsuzuku Yami
Summary: What happens when Doctor Lecter decides to be the doctor to The Joker? *Temporarily discontinued due to writers block, sorry.*
1. Introduction

_**Authoress Note:** The version of Hannibal is movie-verse. And this is my first attempt at trying my hand at Hannibal Lecter. If you have suggestions for him or even The Joker let me know. And my deciding to try my hand at this crossover is thanks to_ _"UnstoppableSkyflyer"._

**Introduction**

Hannibal sat reading a newspaper; he now lived in the newer part of Gothom; a place that was mostly left untouched by The Joker's first attacks. The headlines were announcing that The Joker has been apprehended for the tenth time since then. Not to mention, apparently The Batman was still at large and on the run. He doubted though that Gothom's police forces were putting all that much effort into catching the masked vigilantly.

But anything on The Batman wasn't really catching his interest; it hasn't since he first arrived in Gothom. It was The Joker that caught his attention; he wanted to play the part of psychiatrist again. Just to unravel what made the man tick. It was rare that he did this, but it was about time he splurged on himself. A splurge that didn't involve with killing, they were rare these days. Especially ever since he decided to splurge on the one FBI agent that really caught his attention.

She was none other than Clarice Starling.

Now all he had to do was wait- wait and see if he got what he wanted and gets hired on at Arkham. Almost on cue of his musings the phone beside him rang. Folding the paper up quickly and neatly he answered with a calm, "Hello."

"_Hello. Is this a Mr. Philip Jones?_" The newest owner of Arkham spoke through the phone.

"This is." Hannibal answered calmly, slightly shifting enough to be comfortable in his chair. He waited calmly for the man on the other side of the phone to continue.

"_This is Jeremiah Arkham. The Administer of Arkham. I'm phoning about your application to work here at Arkham_." Jeremiah stated calmly from the other side of the phone.

"Ah yes. I was just about to phone to see if anyone has looked over my application yet." Hannibal stated calmly. He was starting to get impatient by now; after all technically it has been several weeks since he first went to Arkham and handed in his falsified credentials and the application required in order to work at such a place.

"_Well, technically this shouldn't be done over the phone. In person would be better, but it's a bit chaotic here with The Joker getting settled in again so I suppose we can make an exception this once._" Jeremiah stated calmly from the other side of the phone.

"Yes, I suppose, after all you are in charge of Arkham, and you do have responsibilities to take care of things there." Hannibal said, making sure the breeze of understanding was in his words. It helped to get things going smoothly in nearly every situation.

"_Well then, I suppose I shouldn't take up more of your time, and so I can get back to tending to things here. You can start this coming Monday. Does that sound fine to you?_" Jeremiah asked calmly.

"That sounds perfect." Hannibal assured, he couldn't stop the triumphant smile from slipping onto his face. Thankfully he kept his voice professional, to keep the man impressed and to some points trusting enough to not turn around and change his decision. After all, that could still happen in any job, especially in the job he was about to partake in. Albeit temporarily, until he got his fill.

After farewells Hannibal hung up and looked down at his arm, he has yet to find a fitting replacement for his hand. Knowing that it would never be as efficient as his hand was, but deciding that it would be better than having nothing there at all.

_**Authoress Note:** This chapter has been Beta'ed by CriggleChi._


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Monday soon came for Hannibal as he checked himself in the mirror, he always did like to make sure he was properly dressed and clean. He made sure his hygiene was perfect whenever he could, but then again, it came easy for Hannibal. Much like nearly everything else he does these days. That included killing when necessary. He wanted to take a taxi into the Narrows and to Arkham, but none of the taxi drivers he spoke to agreed, no matter how kindly he asked. Faintly he wondered if he should ask not so kindly, but that would ruin his chances here in Gothom.

He noted how grim the place looked on the outside, it was enough to send chills down the spines of those who were considered sane and enough to give the insane a foreboding feeling. He found it had a certain charm; he has yet to completely discover what that charm is. Waiting at the front door he noted a man wearing a doctors white jacket and glasses. He knew that to be Jeremiah Arkham, the administer of Arkham Asylum.

Once close enough he heard himself being greeted by the thin man; they shook hands and he was lead into the building, the inside wasn't as inviting as he figured it be. The whole place seemed to give him the sense of depression and hopelessness. That didn't concern him though, instead he ignored it and followed the Administer to his office, and this was where they would talk more so about his soon to be patient and his job here. He was getting hired on as the head doctor; they needed a new one since Crane no longer fit the bill.

"Doctor. If you please." Jeremiah stated calmly, indicating the chair he passed on his way to his own chair. He regarded the man in front of him, he was well aware of who he actually was. But that wasn't so much of a concern of his; if the man could help then he was willing to turn a blind eye to it. After all, he had some hope that the patients of Arkham could be housed within society once again with the right help. And Hannibal Lecter might just be able to do that.

Hannibal sat down; he examined the man who was examining him in return. He let the other control the conversation; his main reason was to learn what exactly was his job and who was his first patient. He hoped that it would be the infamous Clown Prince of Crime, The Joker himself.

"So we don't beat around the bush, I want to thank you Doctor Philip Jones for choosing Arkham. We're happy to have you here. My secretary will show you to your office; it's been cleaned out for you. And as for your first patient, here's his file." Jeremiah stated as he indeed handed over the file that was minimal at best.

Hannibal wasn't impressed. He was expecting more information than this, but no, the file he got meant he'd have to do nearly everything from scratch. They didn't even have a real name down, just John Doe. He figured that The Joker would react terribly to that name.

"Thank you Doctor Arkham." Hannibal stated pleasantly, hiding his own pleasure that he did indeed get the patient he wanted in the first place. The Joker. Not too long after their short discussion Jeremiah got called off and Hannibal was lead by an orderly to a room that was used for meetings between patients and doctors. He was told to wait here, and they were going to bring The Joker in within a few moments.

--

Two orderlies walked on each side, one behind as The Joker was escorted in a straightjacket to the room where he's been more than once since his arrival. They wanted him to talk to a shrink again, lay his childhood out for the man or woman and then have them tell him what's wrong with him. There was just one problem with that; there was nothing wrong with him. He wasn't crazy; he wasn't a monster or even a freak for that matter.

He was an Agent of Chaos.

A small laughter bubbled its way up his throat but soon turned to a full out laugh. He couldn't wait to see whom he gets this time! The last person who got him ended up being found hanging from his bedroom ceiling fan with a homemade noose attached to it. The person before him ended up running from the room in fear. And that man was twice his size! Yes, The Joker was no fool in pushing people's buttons to get the right reaction from them. It just takes a bit of poking around first for a open wound, then you can rip it further and further until it can't even scare over.

"_So_, who's the Doctor _this_ time?" Joker asked the large man to his right after his laughter died down for the hundredth time that day, figuring he might as well start a conversation of sorts.

No answer. Like usual.

Frowning Joker huffed slightly, he was disappointed in the man he nicknamed Po. Po didn't appreciate the nickname and showed him how much he appreciated it after dark. Joker had the bruises covering his torso to prove it. A smile soon made it's way to his face again; the door to his next shrink was just ahead.

"So? Who's going to _open_ the door this _time_? Mo? Po? Jo?" Joker taunted as he nearly skipped a step ahead if not for the firm hold that was on both arms. Po tightened his grip, Joker new that it was because of his nickname. But then again, what else could Joker call him? He didn't know his real name. He could feel Jo glaring at his back, but way too serious Mo ignored him. Joker didn't like that; he'll have to deal with that later though. There wasn't much he could do now, not when he wanted to meet and say good-bye to his newest doctor.

He was delighted to see that it was Po who opened the door. Though he was even more delighted to see the doctor sitting at the table already. He sure did look old! And the fact that he was missing a hand entertained The Joker too! Maybe they could trade stories!

_**Authoress Note:**__ This Chapter has been beta'ed by CriggleChi._


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Licking his lips quickly Joker let the orderly nicknamed Mo lead him to the chair and lock the restraints to keep him sitting. That didn't matter; he could get out easily enough. The fools around the place never learn. Smiling he scanned the old man in front of him for a moment until he decided to start the conversation with a drawn out and exaggerated,  
"Hi."

"Good afternoon." Hannibal greeted in return as he sat across from the scarred man who was smiling, though he had to admit that it was slightly difficult to tell whether or not the man was actually smiling. The scars made it difficult.

"So, what are _we_ going to, uh, talk about today?" Joker couldn't help but chide, he was entertained today and in a good mood. That alone would have influence on today's meeting.

"We're just going to talk about a few things. First of all, I was informed that you don't co-operate with any IQ tests. Why is that?" Hannibal started calmly, watching for any reactions that could inform him on what's going on in Joker's head.

Joker huffed slightly; he was hoping that they would talk about something more interesting unlike all the subjects the other useless shrinks attempted to talk to him about. And his frown probably showed that he wasn't all that impressed, but of course no one did anything about it. Oh well.

"Why should I?" Joker asked in return, a smile returning as he figured that it would be an interesting thing to toy around with the doctor. The doctor he just knew was a predator, just like himself! It would be fun to see just how much this man was a predator. Though Joker will only carry this on for as long as he wanted, which could be short. Or long. It all depended on his attention span at the moment, and whether or not his current activity could hold his attention well enough.

Only 'The Batman' could hold his attention indefinitely, after all, the flying rodent completed him. Or so The Joker says.

"I would say to give others the insight to your, intelligence but that won't convince you to co-operate. Now would it?" Hannibal stated calmly, almost calculating in a lazy manner; Irregular to his usual calculations and manipulations of others. His reasons now to provide lazy attempts were simply to watch how the other would react, and what he can learn from the man across from him. If anything, this lazy attempt was mainly to provoke a reaction or co-operation out of the man. Whichever came first.

Laughter that was all, that he got from Joker at the start as the man nearly bounced in his seat in excitement as much as the restraints would allow him to. If anything, if Hannibal didn't know better he would describe Joker as both harmless and more like a large child if anything. But the cold humor in Joker's eyes reminded him that the man could probably snap his neck and laugh the same time if he wanted to. The man was dangerous, even Hannibal had to admit that; A threat to his life, if he wasn't careful.

"Now, heh… Now _that_ was rather, uh, _low_ of you. Doc-tor. Trying to weakly goad _me_ into co-oper-ating." Joker couldn't help but chide. There was a smile on his face while calculating eyes watched the aged predator in front of him. He could provide himself with a very accurate guess that the Doctor was trying to manipulate him. Though the lazy attempts pissed him off, he was worth more than lazy attempts! But he won't show it, not yet.

"Yes, I can see why. But you never truly explained to me your lack of co-operation when it comes to IQ tests." Hannibal pointed out calmly.

"Didn't k_no_w that it _was_ the question. All I heard was uh, laz_y_ talk… _Bow_-ring! Really Doc… Try some-th_ing_ else…" Joker goaded, pure unrestrained humor lacing in his words, hiding his growing frustrations with the dance around IQ questions.

Before anything else could be said, Doctor Arkham's voice spoke through a speaker that was put in the room that was specifically for dangerous criminals like The Joker,

"Doctor Philip Jones, we usually only allow thirty minutes on the first day. I forgot to inform you before you met him. A guard will let you out of the room." And with that the door behind Hannibal opened up.

Despite his frustrations on how his first meeting with the man who was now smiling widely, he was quite satisfied with what he's learnt so far. Not planning on sharing the information with the foolish head doctor of Arkham he stood up.

"Pity, Doc. I was hoping for a longer play date." Joker mocked as he watched his new doctor walk out of the room without a moment's pause to his words. Most doctors either pause or acknowledge his parting words. Not this one. And that made him laugh.

--

Hannibal ignored the words and walked down the hall to the office of Doctor Jeremiah Arkham he wanted to voice a complaint, but chose not to. He wanted to write down his notes as soon as possible. Sighing slightly inwardly, daring not to break composure. He worked so hard to keep up the façade long enough to get this job. He was not going to break it now. He refused.

Knocking on the door, he was invited in with a simple, "Enter" Which was fine with Hannibal, so long as the manner it was said in wasn't rude. He truly did hate rudeness. To him, there was no need to be rude, even the most callous of men can be polite. So, why not? After all, it was unsettling when the man you're hunting or the man that will end your life is polite and could easily charm you up to the last second despite your fear.

Entering the office he noticed that the man was sitting at the desk reading newspaper. It looked like it was vandalized before it was printed. A large question mark was on the first page, obviously questioning the fact that The Batman was a murderer. Hannibal doubted that, after all why would someone who killed five people go back to not killing and protecting the innocent civilians of Gothom?

"Something troubling you, Doctor." Hannibal asked, training his eyes on Jeremiah's face. Studying his expressions carefully and noting the stress and tiredness featured there.

"No… No not at all. How was your session? I do apologize for ending it so soon. But we didn't want The Joker to get too comfortable with you, or you with him…" Jeremiah explained calmly as he set the paper down, neatly folded.

"Quite alright. Though I already do know how to handle myself with a man such as that." Hannibal stated, after all he was someone who could fit in the same category, which gave him an edge that other psychiatrists didn't have.

A sigh from Jeremiah was audibly heard as he said, "I'm aware of that… Do you want me to show you your office, or should that wait for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow. I would like to rest, and think over my first session with him." Hannibal answered a nod and a quick farewell later Hannibal was outside of Arkham, the sun was still in the sky and his watch told him it was about time to have dinner. He might as well get something to eat and mull over what he's found out.

_**Authoress Note:** Beta'ed by CriggleChi._


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Joker smiled while he sat in his room, he couldn't help but smile. He was exited for the next meeting with his new doctor. Toying with a card between his fingers with tender care only to stare at the face of a clown dubbed Joker stare back at him. Mirroring the smile that was on the card he went back to flipping it back and fourth between fingers.

"Doc-_tor_, Doctor, why so serious?" Joker couldn't help but chide. After all, the old man did seem rather cautious and way to serious for Joker's taste. He'll just have to fix that when the proper opportunities show themselves. After all, him being _the_ agent of chaos opportunities always jumped out for him. And being that he was such a good guy he should give the doctor something to smile about. After all, it was always good for your health to smile.

Sitting in his room laughing he couldn't help but know that the orderlies and doctors that happen to walk by probably think he's up to something.

"They just don't under_stand_… I'm not a _schemer_." Joker couldn't help but point out to the blank wall across from him. They painted over the batman pictures he drew in his only roommate blood. He didn't get one since.

--

Hannibal sat at his table, empty plate next to him in favor of having his notebook sitting in front of him in it's place. He normally would have cleaned up his mess before moving onto other things, but the notes he needed to put down simply couldn't wait until after. With black ink he started writing down what he observed in his first thirty minutes within the man's presence. He faintly wondered if he could figure out the real name and the man's back history to see what made a man into a monster.

He from experience learnt that it's not always nature that creates a monster. You are not always born with evil. Evil, has to grow. It did with him. And he suspects that it did with The Joker. If the scars that were carved into the man's face were any indication.

Looking down at what he wrote he was so far satisfied with what was written. With that he closed the book around the pen and took his plate into the small kitchen. Just as he was prepared to wash his dishes, the phone rang. Going slightly tight-lipped he walked over to the phone and answered with a calm even, "Hello."

"_Hello this is Gothom City Survey. Can I have a moment of your time to throw a few questions your way?_" The man asked, it sounded like the man was chewing gum.

Frowning he wished he knew who was on the other side of the phone so he could pay them a visit for disturbing his evening's peace and quiet. Without a word he hung up. He rather did find surveys pointless and a waste of his time. Especially one's done over the phone.

--

Holding the phone in his hands and openly laughing, the other end went dead. Apparently the good doctor didn't like surveys. Pity. He heard the door being broken as three large orderlies crashed into Arkham's office with batons and a gun drawn. Laughable!

"Joker put your hands up! And step away from the phone!" One man yelled, Joker nicknamed him Mr. Blue. He always seemed to be in a blue mood in Joker's opinion. Laughing The joker put his hands up in the air.

"Question? Which do I, uh. _Do_ first? I mean… I can't…" Joker started to say but was cut off as he was forced to the ground. Instead he continued to laugh, the joke he played on his doctor still fresh in his mind. Mirth clearly showing in his eyes.

Joker was too amused to fight back as they forced him up and a straightjacket on. He knew he was going to one of the white rooms that was used for inmates who misbehaved. He didn't mind though, he could simply bounce off the walls in order to entertain himself.

His laughter rang off the walls as he was pulled towards one of the white rooms. Behind him he knew the administer was calling his doctor to apologize. He sneered at that, it would ruin his fun.

--

Hannibal finally got back to his dishes, and thankfully finished them before the cursed phone rang again. Though thankfully this time it wasn't a survey. In fact it was his new boss.

"Ah, Doctor Arkham. How may I help you." Hannibal answered, he managed to keep his irritation from his voice. Years of practice.

"_I apologize for the late call. I am simply phoning to apologize about the survey call you just got. The Joker got out of his cell and managed to barricade himself in my office… And your phone number is in my address book I forgot in my haste to go home due to some private matters._" Doctor Arkham's voice rang out, genuinely sounding apologetic.

The news did nothing but made Hannibal's mood worse. He really didn't like practical jokes, of any sort.

"Quite alright Doctor. It was an accident on your part." Hannibal said, trying his hardest to sound sympathetic and understanding despite his own growing irritation. In his private opinion, Doctor Arkham shouldn't have made such a mistake like that. It was careless and sloppy.

"_He didn't get too far into it did he?_" Doctor Arkham's voice questioned over the phone, nervously. That caught Hannibal's attention. What would have the doctor nervous for? It was just a survey done by a homicidal clown.

"No, he didn't." Hannibal answered, silently hoping that the doctor on the other end of the phone would clarify on why he was so nervous sounding.

"_Good… He would have gotten pretty nasty with his questions…_" Doctor Arkham muttered through the phone before giving a lame excuse for having to go. Hannibal bid him a good night and hung up, musing to himself what he should do with The Joker for his phone call.

**Hannibal's Notes:  
****August 10 - Monday**

Subject shows higher intelligence then he is given credit for. The first half an hour of my first session proved that, when he bluntly avoided my questions about the IQ tests he refuses to take. And him pointing out that I was trying to goad him into co-operating or perhaps a simple reaction.

Which I received in the form of laughter.

As for what I've seen in his eyes. They are cold, contradicting. He laughs, but his eyes do not. It most likely means that he was either irritated with me, or dealing with a growing frustration towards my persistence. I have yet to discover more proof to this, thus far it is only a guess. I am at this point not too sure what his eyes can possibly mean.

As for his speech pattern, it is rather unnerving in how some of his words are perfectly pronounced and then some of his words are clipped and exaggerated. I would suspect that it is a deliberate action on his part, to set himself off from others and to do what it is meant to do. Unnerve someone.

One thing is for sure; he is so far entertained with our meeting or possibly meetings. And that alone will keep him co-operating enough to speak with me. That is all I need, to learn more about this man.

_**Authoress Note:** How do you like the fact that I put in at the end of the chapter Hannibal's notes? Oh! And this chapter was beta'ed by CriggleChi._


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The next day couldn't come soon enough; Hannibal wanted to have a nice chat with the clown about prank calls. Though he knew he couldn't do anything about it. Especially if he wanted to accomplish his goal, which was the reason he was working here in the first place.

Without a second thought he checked himself in the mirror, making sure everything was where it was suppose to be and neat. He had to admit, things have been harder without his hand. It took longer to do everything, and it took him a bit to relearn how to tie his tie with one hand. Not an easy accomplishment, but with his determination he managed it. And gradually it became easier. His shoes on the other hand, still took him some time.

Heading out the door he caught a cab this time, oddly enough the man had a clown mask in the passenger seat next to him and drove him right to Arkham without a second question. The man he noticed was twitchy and stiff. Almost like he was afraid to fail in some way. But Hannibal paid no mind to it at the moment; he can deal with it later and any problems as they come. He was always good at thinking on his feet.

Thanking the man he walked in and was greeted by Doctor Arkham who looked frazzled.

"Doctor? What's wrong? You seem troubled." Hannibal asked with perfected fake concern as he stopped just in front of the man who was waiting next to his new office. He figured it was about either some random faceless patient or his scarred and disturbed patient.

"It's that damn Joker. He won't stop… stop singing. Usually that doesn't bother me due to the fact that I can easily ignore him. But it's the song that he's singing. It reminds me a deceased family member who loved that song." Doctor Arkham explained. He knew it was a pathetic reason to be bothered, or at least in his opinion it was. But he couldn't help it, he was after all only human.

"I see. Let me see if I can do anything about it." Hannibal offered, at the relieved and grateful look he calmly took note which room Joker was in. Thankfully it's always written on the blackboard on his door. It was the easiest way to help the doctor tending to the madman to keep track of his location when he first comes into work and leaves.

Heading down the hall he heard the distinct sound of loud off key singing. He didn't know the song, but he did come to the conclusion that it was an annoying song. The closer he got the more the words seemed to be more coherent as he stopped outside the room hearing the Joker from inside singing.

"_Start wearing purple wearing purple  
__Start wearing purple for me now  
__All your sanity and wits they will all vanish  
__I promise, it's just a matter of time.._."

"I must say, that is an annoying song." Hannibal muttered to himself as he indicated that the door to be unlocked and opened.

--

Joker sat in the middle of the white room, he already finished singing his favorite song at the moment a few times. He enjoyed the effect it had on the administrator of this place. The man sure did look frazzled as he stormed away after a failed attempt of forcing the Joker to stop.

He started up singing when he figured someone would be coming closer soon. Smiling widely, both in his facial features and voice he sang,

"I know you since you where at twenty, and I was twenty,  
But thought that some years from now  
A purple little, little lady would be perfect  
For dirty old and useless clown...

So yeah, _ha_…

Start wearing purple wearing purple  
Start wearing purple for me now  
All your sanity and wits they will all vanish

I promise, it's just a matter of time..." The last verse was song right when the good old doctor stood in front of his door, looking through the window. Lips moving, but the Joker couldn't hear what he was saying. It didn't matter anyway.

As soon as the door was opened up by the usual burly orderly in charge with keeping an eye on him while he was locked up he stood up and couldn't help but chuckle as he asked, "So _doc_. Was the ride into wor_k_ okay?" He made it clear that it was by his arrangements that a cab drove him right to Arkham's doorstep.

"How was it you managed to arrange such a smooth ride for me to work?" Hannibal inquired calmly as he watched an orderly haul Joker to his feet without much trouble. Tow others flanked him on each side to ensure that The Joker didn't pull anything.

"Oh, I uh have connec_tions_ with _cab_ drivers… Nothing but the bes_t_ for _my_ doctor." Joker mocked, sneering at the Doctor with mirth laced in his green eyes.

"I see. And how, may I ask did you have time to call me a cab between the phone call to me and getting yourself thrown into solitary confinement." Hannibal asked, masking his irritation with calm patience. Joker didn't quite notice it, at least that's what Hannibal's first guess was as he followed the orderlies to their meeting room while he watched Joker go on about what he's going to assume was The Joker's favorite topic. The Batman.

Once in the room again he calmly pulled out his notebook and set it neatly in front of him, a black inked pen on top of the notebook in case he needed to write down notes about his patient.

"_So_, what's going to go on to_day_? After all _we_, uh have a whole hou_r_ to ours_elves_." Joker asked as the orderlies left them alone and The Joker tied to his chair for the doctor's safety.

"I figure I should tackle this problem of not having your folder completely filled out. There are a lot of blanks." Hannibal explained pulling up a folder from the briefcase he was allowed to bring in with him so long as there weren't any sharp objects inside or somehow apart of the briefcase. The Joker is notorious for stealing weapons that at first glance you wouldn't think of using as a weapon.

"Nononono. We _can't_ talk about tha_t_. It's _bow-ring_." Joker corrected, locking his eyes with Hannibal's eyes. Head tilted slightly in his usual manner when addressing someone seriously or even mockingly. It all depended on the situation. Today, it was serious.

A sigh of frustration Hannibal kept Joker's gaze and stated, "Very well, what do you want to talk about?" And for that he got laughter while he watched Joker's eyes break away from his and move downward to his missing hand without moving his head.

"Let's swap _stories_. My _scars_. Your _hand_." Joker stated as he reconnected his gaze with the doctor. He wanted to see if his assumption was correct, and his doctor was a predator. Someone out of the norm of society and thus feared and hated. Someone like him.

_**Authoress Note:** Beta'ed by CriggleChi XD_


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Hannibal thought it over for a moment; he knew the case well enough to know what happens to everyone who hears The Joker's scar stories. They die. So he couldn't help but wonder, was this a death threat? The more curious part of him that he credited to him becoming as intelligent as he was doted on him to go further and discover what made The Joker tick. All the while, he watched as The Joker watched him with a smile on his face showing off mildly yellow teeth. He knew it was a smile because the scars seemed to stretch more so then they normally are when he wasn't smiling.

"You're worried uh, that _I_ would _kill_ you? If you heard how I got my, _scars_." Joker pointed out confidently as he remained smiling and slouched in his chair. Not bothering with proper posture. Why should he?

"Not so much you, but you do have connections. Do you not?" Hannibal pointed out for the sake of the argument. Not that there would be one, he somehow knew that he would end up swapping stories with the scarred patient in front of him.

The Joker could barely contain himself as he let out a high pitched laugh, much like the one he let out when The Batman asked him why he wanted to kill him. Rocking in his restraints slightly he couldn't help but correct with an excited movement in his head,  
"Don't be pare-_a_-noid! _I'm_ not going to kill you… It would be, uh, _rude_ to kill _my_ personal doctor." Joker watched calmly as he managed to settle himself in his restraining chair.

Hannibal weighed the decision in his mind once more before answering with a calm, "Very well. You first." Hannibal wasn't too sure if it was possible, but The Joker's smile seemed to grow inhumanly wide at that.

"O-_kay_! If you, uh, in_sist_." The Joker agreed enthusiastically. Joker watched as Hannibal pulled out a tape recorder that wasn't permitted in the interview in fears that if The Joker got out of his restraints he could use it as a weapon. It would appear that the good doctor was willing to bend or break rules. Once the record button was hit The Joker cleared his throat to begun, if his hands were free he would have made a fist in front of his mouth as he did so.

Licking his lips and trailing his tongue on the inside of his cheek he began, "In any good stor_y_, there has to be a good guy. And a _bad_ guy. It, uh, doesn't take a wild _e_-magination to guess whose the bad guy and the poor innocent good guy. Destined to become a victim. Heh, and as you have guessed I'm the good guy. The harmless, helpless victim of this cruel world… Well, let's get on with the, uh, story shall we?

_One_ day, I was going to the public school. You see, mommy and daddy weren't very rich. Not like _Wayne's_ family. With their _pri_vate schools and their stupid limo's. Heh, _I_ want one… An-e-way, I was walking to school. To big for my body knap_sack_ on my back, making things hard you know for such a lit_tle_ guy like me. I was scrawny, that's why. _So_. Here I was, minding my uh, own business. I was walking out of the narrows. _Dane_-gerous place you know. I didn't see someone walking behind me, I wasn't watchful of my surroundings like I, uh, should have been.

I was _at_tacked. For my _knap_sack. The guy though_t_ I had _m_oney. Heh, _fun_ny. A kid who carries mo_ney_… No… That's no_t_ where I get my scars. That comes later. I got away… _Ran_ all the way home. You see, mommy told me to do that when I was in trou_ble_. I ran into the house, closed the door behind me. Locked it too. Guy came through a window; think he was, uh, on something to be that desperate. Mommy and Daddy were still home. Daddy confronted the man… _BANG_! Daddy lies d_ead_ on the ground. Mommy _scre_ams. Guy silences her too. I c_ry_ of course, I was a _poor_ innocent little ki_d_.

Guy wanted _me_ to be quite. _I_ wouldn't. _He_ attacked _me_. I dodged once. Got _my_ bottom lip. Dodged twice, missed. I tripped and he caught little oh _me_. I wouldn't stop bagging, _hehe_ I wouldn't stop tal_king_. And you know wha_t_?! _He_ decided that he should shu_t_ me up, in a _cree_-ative way. _So_. He put the knife into _my_ mou_th_, and started to saw ba_ck_ and f_ourth_ as he carved _my_ cheeks open and _my_ mouth wider. I let out a gurgled scream. He yells, '_shut up!_' but that doesn't work on _me_. I screamed more _and_ choke on my _blood_. He sawed into the other side of _my_ cheek. Dying the carpet beneath me _red_ and causing me to taste my, uh, own bloo_d_. Sirens could be heard, back then… good little _cops_ played their part and came and tried to be good guys. You know, not like the corru_pted_ garbage of today.

_CRASH_! Open comes the door! _BANG_! Dead the man becomes, and little oh _me_ was rescued by the good guy cop. And Gordon was his name-oh." Joker finished, nearing the end his voice became more excited.

Hannibal couldn't help but note that when it came to the part where the supposed burglar carved the boy's face The Joker became eerily happy. Almost ecstatic even. Hannibal doubted that it was the truth; the man seemed to be incapable of it. But he had to make sure that he was correct or if by chance that it was the truth and it was a lie. He hated lies; it could be in the same category as rudeness.

"Despite the fact, that what I am about to say can be considered unprofessional I feel the need to state my opinion of your, story." Hannibal calmly stated, keeping his hand on his lap and a measured expression present.

"Uh-huh. What is your opinion?" Joker asked, leaning in as close as his restraints would allow him to and making it appear that he was listening closely.

"That the scar story was a fabricated lie." Hannibal stated seriously, keeping a calm even tone to his voice. It was a well practiced tone perfected over the years, even to the point he could use it while he was either about to kill or in the process of killing someone.

"Excuse me. Now why would I, uh, tell a horrible lie like that?" Joker asked, making a sound of disgust as he said it. Like he was insulted at the accusation of being called a liar to his face. The man irritated him for not believing his story the first time, everyone else did.

"Simple. You enjoy attention. Evidence backs that up with the fact that you take every precaution to make sure everyone notices what you do. Including broadcasting it over television." Hannibal explained calmly and as he explained he noticed the disgusted insulted expression The Joker wore melted away to one of complete mirth and amusement. It surprised him on how quick the man's moods can change. Almost like he had each emotion on a hair trigger.

Then laughter.

The Joker was laughing, and despite the restraints he managed to bounce in his seat slightly. Completely entertained and overjoyed.

"You, uh… Are righ_t_. That's no_t_ the tru_th_! But why have _one_ past, when you can have _many_!" Joker found himself admitting, he didn't care if his doctor was aware that it was a lie. It was _how_ you told the story that counted. And not to mention the expression he usually sees on people's faces when he tells his stories.

"Then why lie?" Hannibal asked, out of habit as being a doctor. Not to mention, he needed to ask simple questions like that to gain further insight on The Joker's mind.

"Why, a_muse_ment of course. Now, you're story. I want to h_ear_ it. Come on… Speak _up_, we, uh, don'_t_ have all _day_ of course." Joker enthusiastically said settling himself into his chair once more and ignoring the fact that he was restrained. He hated being restrained it was no fun.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Hannibal weighed his choices he knew he could lie about it. Possibly better then The Joker could but then there was a nagging thought that the man in front of him wasn't really trying all that hard. Nor was he in a proper setting nor in the power to make his story seem plausible and to the one he tells it to, frightening. But, did he want to lie about it?

"The story is simple. Very simple in fact, I cut off my own hand to escape capture by the FBI again. Not favoring the idea of being behind a window in an asylum like a zoo animal." Hannibal stated calmly, deciding to leave names out for one reason only. It wasn't The Joker's business.

"You cut off your own hand! How, how… entertaining." Joker chided happily before adding in a darker note, "How utterly pathetic. I personally would have cut off poor little Clarice's hand. Kept it as a souvenir to remember her by. Wore it as a key chain. Five keys." Smiling cruelly, and keeping eye contact he waited for Hannibal's reaction. It never came for a good minute. He could tell the good doctor was restraining himself, and pushing his more primal urges back.

Hannibal decided to speak up when he was satisfied that he won't lose control of his emotions, especially when the fact that he mentioned her name. And what he should have done. He liked his Clarice in one piece, more or less. Not accounting for her mind of course.

"How do you know?" Hannibal asked, keeping his own icy expression trained on Joker. To most it would force honest answers out of them by intimidation and the show that he won't budge from his position. But it appeared that it wouldn't work with The Joker who kept the same dark expression on him. Hannibal couldn't help but notice that The Joker did in fact have green eyes but in the photo's when Joker was in full make up and outfit his eyes were black. He knew why of course, the black around his eyes.

The Joker didn't answer, didn't get a chance to. As he smiled knowingly the buzz sounded, letting Hannibal Lecter know that the session was over. Frustrated with it being over Hannibal stood up and gathered his notebook and pen.

"It would see we're out of time today, until next time. Tata." Hannibal stated as a farewell as he left the room. Not paying attention to the smiling face of The Joker as he left.

--

Joker laughed like there was no tomorrow as he was nearly dragged back to his room. He wanted to leave a present for Hannibal in his office tonight. Maybe he can print a picture of Clarice for him. Smirking slightly at that thought he allowed himself to fall where they threw him. Not stopping his laughing. Waiting a few minutes before rolling over onto his stomach and chuckling some more before pushing himself to his feet quickly.

He'll wait until tonight before paying his doctor's office a visit.

Smiling widely he sat on his nearly flattened mattress and twiddled his fingers on his lap. Not moving from that position for the rest of the day. He was patient when needed to be, and in Arkham he understood full well the need to be patient. Not once did his smile falter.

--

Hannibal made record time for himself in getting into his office; he needed to find out how The Joker knew about Clarice. He didn't like the thought of the insane man with face deforming scars knowing about his business. Taking a deep breath he picked up the newspaper to see if there was any form of messages in there. After all, it was obvious that The Joker had people on the outside. Which reminded him, the cab driver. If it's the same one, he and the cab driver will have a small chat.

He had to know how deep and how much control The Joker actually had. He figured that he had a lot but newspapers played everything down a lot, even Gothom News played it down. But Hannibal by no means was gullible enough to believe half-truths fed to the public by higher ups.

Satisfied with his plan he plotted in his mind how things could turn out in the cab, he suspected the man was afraid of The Joker. So that would make things difficult, because the man won't talk in fear of his own life. But then again, pulling that sort of stunt with Hannibal could get you killed as well. It started to look like the cab driver was going to lose out in the end no matter which way the upcoming situation went. Sensing a presence at his door he looked up and noticed Doctor Jeremiah Arkham standing at the door, hands folded in front of him.

"Yes, how can I help you?" Hannibal asked, masking his irritation at being bothered with a surgeons precision he placed a kind smile on his face. There to calm the doctor's still frayed nerves so the man could speak freely. It worked perfectly because the good doctor spoke up saying,  
"I want to thank you, for getting him to stop singing that song. And I wonder how your sessions are going?"

A light chuckle, perfectly placed before Hannibal replied with silent confidence, "Doctor Arkham, you being a doctor, you should know that I can't give you a clear picture with only a couple of sessions."

"Oh right. I knew that." Jeremiah muttered out, clearly embarrassed with his obvious lapse in judgment.

"It's fine, you've had a long day. You should go home, get some rest. You look tired." Hannibal stated calmly as he stood up, placing his notebook in his brief case so the mess that he knew would be coming soon enough won't ruin it.

"I suppose you are right, after all I've been here since 4 am due to problems with other violent patients." Jeremiah agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. He could honestly say that it was slightly unnerving on how easy Doctor Lecter could put you at ease. Frightening even, after all when you're at ease you tend to lower your guards enough for someone to strike out at you. The Joker proved that point to him once before. Luckily there were a couple of orderlies there to assist him in getting The Joker off of him.

With that conclusion and Hannibal's fake concern about him being up so early they said their good by's and went there own way. Jeremiah in his car and Hannibal waiting for the cab to come pick him up. And like he figured, looking down watch on his wrist the cab was right on time. Hannibal let out a breathy sigh as he approached with a calm aura. Getting into the back seat right behind the man he placed the brief case at his feet so the man won't see what he's doing with it.

He always kept a small pocketknife hidden away in it. For emergencies just like this one. Pulling it out he asked to make sure the man didn't notice his movements,  
"So, tell me. Have you been in Gothom for long?" A practiced hint of genuine curiosity.

"Uh… My whole life…" The man hesitantly answered, he was told not to talk to Hannibal. He was breaking the rules! The Joker won't like this at all!

"I have one question to ask you before we talk further." Hannibal stated, the look in his eye taking on a more sharp deadly look he gets when he's about to strike out. With one fluid movement he had the tip of the pocketknife to the man's jugular and his handless arm draped on the other side, pressing the man back in the seat. The man was stuttering, he could nearly taste the fear the man had at that second. With a silent sigh he asked calmly,  
"Do you work for The Joker? Do answer quickly, I don't think I can keep the knife still for very long."

"Y-yes… He isn't going to like this. Isn't going to like it… at… all." The man stuttered as an answer. He started to sweat and his knuckles were going white from gripping the steering well so tightly. He wasn't meant for this kind of action, The Joker simply hired him to drive the doctor to and fro. Nothing more, he never really met The Joker until a couple of men in clown masks got in the back of his cab and gave him an ultimatum. Do or die. And what he learnt from living in Gothom was simple. The Joker's word was the law, even more then the Mayors or even the Batman for that matter. The psychotic clown was powerful even he could see that. So of course, he choose Do.

"How does he gain information and how is it given to him?" Hannibal asked, waiting as patiently as he could for the answer. Though he wanted the answer very soon, his stop was coming up.

"He… I… He has people… I think in every place in Gothom… GCPD… Mayor's office… Ever… where. I don't know how he gets the information though! I'm just a cab driver, I had no choice but to do work for him. Please don't kill me!" The man blubbered out in a stuttered quick pace. Hoping that his answer would suffice for the man.

"You don't know?" Hannibal asked calmly, a nod and a wince was what he got for an answer, with a sigh he took the pocketknife away from the man's neck and stated calmly, "I believe you. Do have a good day."

And with that Hannibal left the car and carried his brief case indoors and towards his apartment. No sooner then locking his door behind him he heard an explosion. Making his way to the window, he carefully peered out and saw that the cab he was just in exploded. Apparently The Joker doesn't give any room for slacking when it comes to people playing by his rules. He looked around to ensure his safety before moving away from the window, leaving the blinds closed for tonight.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Sitting at his table with his notebook in front of him, a pen in hand, Hannibal prepared himself to write more notes about The Joker. After all, The Joker was the reason he was here. Sitting back slightly he mildly mused on the day's events, mainly his interaction with the cab driver before the unfortunate passing of the said cab driver. The cab driver's death didn't bother him; it was safe to say that the only thing that truly did bother him was his own lack of imagination. He knew full well what he was capable of and the lengths he can use with creativity. A knife wasn't very creative, in fact it would be considered out of character for him now. But no need to dwell on that, it served its purpose at the time and that was all that mattered now.

Thinking back on how his drive home went he found himself frowning at the fact that he wasn't here very long and already his location was known to what he would assume to be a criminal mastermind. Which made him think, how long until the authorities knew about his location if they didn't already? The Joker even knew about Clarice, and that didn't bode well with him to say the least. In fact it provided him with too many problems in his escapade and now he found himself faintly thinking about whether or not it was worth it.

Hannibal stood up and walked to his fridge. Without hesitation he opened it and pulled out an expensive bottle of wine and poured himself a glass. Re-sitting himself he swirled the wine before taking a small sniff before he even considered tasting the beverage. It was both customary for a proper wine drinker and at this point it was habit.

No, he already knew that it was worth it and it gave him a way to keep himself occupied. After all, he would be the only one with a true idea of what The Joker's mind was like. And that would play in his favor. For now he would keep dancing this dance with The Joker. But when the dance is over, he suspected that only one would walk away either alive or more or less unbroken. With those thoughts he started writing in his journal.

Outside his apartment a clean up crew already arrived and started to shovel up joker cards while the charred body was driven away to the city morgue. The car was the last thing to get cleaned up that night, leaving behind the charred ground where it was when it exploded.

--

The Joker couldn't take it any longer! He sat still for far too long in his opinion, and now the nighttime staff was taking their time in switching with the daytime staff. After all, it's a given fact that the nighttime staff was more gullible and easy for The Joker to use. Chuckling to himself he shifted uncomfortably before clasping his hands in front of him in a bored manner. He really did want to get out of his cell to play.

After what seemed to be hours it was time for him to set in motion his wonderful idea's for the office, but first he had to get out of the cell. Which was easy for him to get out. It just took a little bribing here and there and then presto he was out. Waltzing down the hallways in a cheerful manner he slipped into his doctor's office. It used to be Jonathan Crane's office, but he wasn't any were near as fun to play with as Hannibal Lecter is. So he never really got to see inside this office before.

Sitting down on the chair he ran his fingers across the chair arms and the desk in front of him. He read the name that was put on the door, an alias for sure. After all, Hannibal was a wanted man. Snickering at the fact that Hannibal's presence only proved him right about the world. Or at least about Gothom and its citizens.

"I, uh, really wish I took a computer class..." Joker hummed as he tried to put in several different passwords. None of which worked. He smiled wickedly, perhaps Doctor Arkham knew. Picking up the phone he dialed the number he swore he knew off by heart now. Unfortunately no one picked up; apparently the good doctor didn't want to deal with any calls concerning Joker's needs. Growling in frustration he stood up quickly. His plans idea's where ruined! It wouldn't work without a picture of the FBI agent Clarice Starling. Pacing around the room The Joker found he was at a complete lose in what to do now. He didn't want to go back to his cell; he finally gets to stretch his legs.

"What are you doing in here!" A voice yelled, catching Joker's attention. A smile, that'll do. It'll have to in order to keep himself entertained.

"Oops… I forgot to close the door to my office." Joker taunted, laughing at his own mocking joke. He won't use it again, after all a joke wasn't good when it was used twice. Laughing hysterically he knew which orderly caught him, that one left a nice bruise on his back the last time they crossed paths about a week ago. It was apparent that he was in for some fun tonight, and maybe he'll decide to finally kill the man off.

"This isn't your office." The man snarled, he really did hate the scarred man who was still standing behind the desk with the glow of a computer screen making the orange more noticeable and causes the scars to stand out even more.

"Says who?" Joker sighed, taunting the man further. Hopefully into a rage. They were so fun breaking down when they were in a rage; it was like taking candy from a baby. Though he already knew his methods weren't methods an intelligent man like _his_ doctor uses. But they worked.

"Says the orange jumpsuit you're wearing!" The man snapped, he had enough of this. And with his lack of sleep, he found he had no control over himself. And the clown in front of him wouldn't stop his stupid laughing and taunting.

"Really? I thought this was the new fashion statement." Joker sarcastically bites out, purposely angering the man further. It was so easy, the bags under the man's eyes is what told him to keep pushing. And Joker, who didn't seem to care about his own safety, saw this as a relevant step to get what he wants. Whatever that'll be. He'll know it when he comes across it. So until then he braced himself, preparing himself for pain so he could expect it and give laughter in return.

_**Authoress Note:** Hopefully the chapter is good XD..._


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The next day, Hannibal was well rested and found his own way into work instead of relying on the new cab driver the Joker sent for him. Although, he didn't quite expect Doctor Jeremiah Arkham to be lingering outside of his office in a nervous manner that was hard to detect for anyone without Hannibal's keen eye for detail.

Letting a slight frown mar his face for a moment before putting on a straight face he approached the owner of Arkham Asylum calmly and stated,  
"Doctor Arkham, I trust that everything is fine?"

"No, unfortunately not Doctor. It would appear The Joker got out of his cell last night and paid a visit to your office. Attempted to hack into your computer, but couldn't get past the password you placed on it… And ended up getting into a fight with a couple of the orderlies." Jeremiah Arkham stated, he managed to clean the office before his criminal doctor arrived. After all, he didn't want to tempt fate with this man. It wouldn't be all that wise; then again, it wouldn't be wise to tempt fate with The Joker as well. He felt like he was between a rock and a hard place here, and hated that he had to feel that way.

"I see. I trust that my patient's injuries aren't, too severe." Hannibal stated calmly, keeping a cool façade instead of the irritated feeling he was now experiencing. He was fully aware of what could have happened should Joker actually get into the computer.

"No, he's just bruised." Jeremiah answered calmly, moving out of the way so that Hannibal could get in and out of his office at his will. Hannibal noted that and entered his office looking at the clean up job, Hannibal could see where a mess most likely was after all he had a very good memory and knows when something was moved. He will no doubt have to have a word with Joker about this. After giving his office a thorough examination he wordlessly walked towards the infirmary unrushed and calmly.

Entering he noted that the Joker was restrained on one of the beds cackling to himself, the nurse nearby was laughing too. He obviously told a joke that actually was funny rather then the twisted jokes he usually tells or sets up in some way or another.

"Can you please leave us? I need to have a word with my patient here." Hannibal said calmly, making eye contact with her keeping his tone polite and unassuming. It wouldn't serve him well to be even the slightest forceful, things tend to fall in place at times with a gentle tone instead. He could tell she was confused and by the fact that she wasn't moving so fast she would be breaking the rules if she left, so he smiled reassuringly to her.

"If-If you say so." The nurse said, she was a sheepish young lady who obviously only started to work there. Hannibal watched her leave before pulling up a chair and sitting down calmly, giving away nothing.

"Wha_t _uh brings you h_ere_?" Joker taunted lightly, he knew very well that the good doctor wasn't very happy with him.

"Why were you in my office last night?" Hannibal asked calmly, he was irritated to say the least at the thought of someone going through his office. Granted there was nothing to be found there other then the supplies provided for him in thanks to Arkham Asylum. But that didn't change the fact that he was irritated by it, not to mention it was rude. And he hated when people were rude, killed them for it even.

Joker eyed him calmly for a moment before chuckling lightly and shifting in his restraints stubbornly.

"I was _in_ you_r_ office looking for some_thing_. I uh seemed to have _miss-play-sed_ something of mine." Joker stated, he'll have to get someone from the outside to get him what he needed. It wouldn't be hard, but still it irritated him that he had to rely on someone else to get what he needed. After all, in his experience if he wanted a job done right he had to do it himself.

"And what, might I ask did you misplace?" Hannibal pushed; he kept eye contact with the clown who obviously wasn't all that fond of someone staring him down. He watched as the clown licked his lips impatiently while chewing on the insides of his lip. A conscious habit?

Joker stared at the doctor for a moment before shifting to his best ability to sit up more. His stomach growled, he was getting hungry. He couldn't remember if he ate breakfast or not. He only ate when he had and in the amount he needed, not for taste or pleasure. He'd rather drink energy drinks in between meals.

"My felt pen." Joker answered straightly, it was the truth. He lost his felt pen that he used to draw beautiful smiles in the office. He cursed the orderlies for that. Joker's attention turned to the doorway where good old Jeremiah Arkham stood, waiting on the good doctor no doubt. Joker waved to the best of his abilities, and with the restraints that wasn't easy.

"Is everything fine?" Jeremiah asked, he swore the air was turning icy for some reason. No doubt from the doctor, it would appear that his newest employee was losing his patients with the Joker slowly. Was that a good thing? He honestly couldn't say, both were dangerous men.

Hannibal turned around in his seat, regarding the interrupter of his conversation for a moment before putting on a calm and outwardly kind façade though his eyes were colder then ever. His patience with the Joker was starting to wane over the time spent with the man. Yet, he still had to finish his current research into the mind of one of the most dangerous broken person on the planet. Though he was quickly starting to consider it a lost cause and no longer as important as it was when he first arrived.

* * *

**Authoress Note:** Sorry I haven't updated this story for quite some time, I unfortunately hit a writer's block. Which still is there unfortunately so if you have any idea's let me know.


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